Boomerang
by CosmicMishap
Summary: For Bruce, starting over meant leaving everything behind. But it looked like it was all coming back to him, in more ways than one.


It hadn't hardly been a month after what the media was calling "The Age of Ultron" when Bruce got a surprise in the form of a certain billionaire sitting at his table of vials and research and obviously upgrading some kind of mechanical motor.

It had been the one day of the week Bruce left to get groceries for his modest shack of a home. It was the bottom floor of some concrete building tucked away on a small back street that no one seemed to use, and had no redeeming qualities as far as value went. But it did have water, and it had electricity, and that was more than Bruce could ask for in his situation.

When he'd woken up with a face full of sand, the sound of crashing waves and the heat of sunlight on his back, he knew Hulk had made a decision for him. And if he was being honest with both of himselves, he'd have to say this was better than the alternative. So, on the small island, he'd started over, found a small place to bunk, gotten some clothing and settled in for another Calcutta. This time he was sure he'd stay for at least three years. The government was really after him this time and S.H.I.E.L.D. was dismantled. He'd wait it out.

He was still living by this philosophy when he returned early in the evening from his errands and found his front door unlocked and slightly ajar. Assuming the worse but fearing nothing but a fist sized missile coming at his face, Bruce shifted his brown bag of groceries and cautiously pushed open his door.

His home was one room that had his bed, a refrigerator and a long table with one seat that contained his research and instruments. There was even a window to see the outside world through. It was amazing what one could accomplish in a month when saving the sick in a third world country. Calcutta had worked basically the same way. Although, Bruce thought as he surveyed the room, no one had ever broken in to my office...

And then he spotted him. The door hadn't squeaked and Bruce was accustomed to treading lightly, so the hunched over billionaire was paying no heed to the new person in the room. Bruce could understand why, it looked like Tony was completely absorbed in his work.

Not confident on his next move, Bruce just decided to play it cool and do what he usually does. Still treading softly, Bruce walked around the table and behind to the refrigerator where he emptied out his goods.

He was surprised to see Tony still toiling away at the small motor vigorously, even after he had surely made some kind of noise with the fridge. Bruce creased his brow and practically tip-toed to Tony's right shoulder and looked over it.

Bruce quickly did an about-face and swung his fridge door open again. It was still cold in there, but he heard no noise for the constant creation of coldness. He slammed the door back and stomped back to Tony's right side.

"TONY!"

The billionaire jumped, and in the process threw the motor into the air. It was a half a second of panicked hot potato, but he managed to grab it back down and place it gently back on the table. Then he looked up and said nothing.

It was a second of blankness on Tony's face before he smiled and stood up. "Hello!" He looked genuinely quite happy to see him, and showed none of the usual smugness he was notorious for having. Tony gestured to the fridge with a glance. "I'm sorry about the fridge, I only wanted some water." He suddenly became anxious, asking, "D-do you have any water by the way? I'm just a little thirsty."

Bruce, in a bit of a daze, closed his slacked jaw and nodded, then took a small water bottle out of the fridge which Tony graciously took and chugged straight down. Bruce couldn't shake the strange feeling that something wasn't right here. Shouldn't Tony have been halfway through his persuasion spiel about how he needs to come back and work in the lab in New York and stop living in these crummy places and how the government's got nothing on him and how if they stayed together there would be no way-

Evidently Tony had asked him a question because he was looking at Bruce like he expected something. Well, he didn't have a clue what he'd asked. "Uh...what?"

Tony smiled at him like he'd expected that kind of an answer. To Bruce it felt like someone was saying 'It's alright honey, let's try this again', and that just about set him off. Tony repeated, "Do you know how I got here?"

Bruce seemed to be struck by the stupidity of the situation. "How you got here?!" Then he got mad. "HOW YOU GOT HERE?! TONY STARK!"

Tony's eyes widened and he backed way up, all the way to the other wall. "I'm sorry! I didn't know that was a bad question! I don't know how I got here!" Bruce was coming towards him with a fist clenched and his blood boiling. Tony blocked his face and shrank against the wall. "I don't know _anything_!"

Bruce took a sharp intake of breath and stopped, fist above his head. He blinked a few times, then said, "You don't know...?"

Tony, realizing he wasn't getting hit, warily removed his hands from his face and looked at Bruce. "Please," he pleaded as he lowered his hands, "I don't remember _anything_."

Bruce dropped his fist and stared at Tony as he stared back with a terrified expression. "God..." Bruce breathed out, "God, I'm so sorry...! I thought you were..." Bruce shook his head and backed into his chair. Plopping down he put his head in his hands. He'd gotten so mad at him...

Bruce felt something land on his shoulder and he looked up. Tony was smiling down at him, hand perched near Bruce's ear. "Hey, if I was you I would've probably done the same. Nobody likes getting broken into."

Bruce glanced at the door and sighed. "Wait," he said, looking back at Tony, "Tony, how did you know to pick my door specifically?"

Tony leaned back and removed his hand, then rubbed his chin. "You know, I don't remember. In fact, I don't remember a thing until I found myself thirsty and in front of a fridge. That thing was making a terrible noise by the way, that's why I took out the motor." He grinned. "I wanted to fix it."

Bruce didn't know what to say to that. He looked at the partially disassembled motor on the table and stood up, gesturing Tony to sit back down and finish.

Tony hung back a little. "Y-you sure? I mean, I'm not even sure if I _can_ fix it."

Bruce smiled and shook his head. "Tony, I don't think it matters what kind of memory you have, any instance of you would be a natural machine-whiz. Besides, I don't know how to fix it and my food needs to be cold so-" He gestured to the chair again.

Tony smiled genuinely and took to the work again with gusto, leaving Bruce to his jumbled thoughts. He sat down on his mattress and rested against the wall as he observed Tony work.

It was obvious he still knew what he was doing, otherwise he would've lost a finger by now. Which was good. It meant Tony was probably running on muscle memory at this point and only muscle memory, which actually could be kind of bad- Bruce kicked the negatives out if his head immediately. What he needed to do was figure out what the hell happened to get Tony out in this corner of the world to begin with. Had he found out where Hulk landed? Already?! That's record time.

If that's the case, Tony was on his way to get him. But what happened on the way? Where's his supposed lost memories?

Bruce creased his brow as a mean thought occurred to him. What if Tony was pulling this all to get him back in the States? Would he really sink this low? There wasn't a real way to find out.

Tony exclaimed suddenly and held the completed motor aloft, then sprang to the fridge and went to install it. Bruce sighed. If Tony was acting, this was an Oscar of a performance.

Tony backed out of the fridge and slammed the door with finality. Then he waited. Bruce got off his bed and walked over when he didn't move for a few seconds. "Tony..."

Tony shushed him and craned his ear towards the fridge. "You hear that?"

Bruce creased his brow. "Hear what?"

Tony sighed and smiled. "The beautiful sound of silence. But!" And he scooted up and put his ear on the fridge door, "This baby can hum you a lullaby." Tony sunk to the floor with an expression of pure ecstacy. "Music to my ears..."

Bruce was wide eyed, and then his jaw dropped with exasperation, and then he just settled on pinching his nose. He honestly didn't know what to do. "Tony..." he stopped. What could he say? He was at a loss for words.

"Well...airspace...?"

Bruce looked up. Was Tony...mumbling? He walked over and stooped down. Bruce was astounded. The seemingly sleeping billionaire curled in on himself a little as he mumbled more to himself. Bruce could only catch bits and pieces.

"...airspace...explain...damn jets...missile lock...opening...foreign...thruster...thruster...THRUSTER!" Tony shot up straight and splayed his hands out to balance himself. Except there was no suit around him to balance. He looked around, confused as to where he was until he saw Bruce again. "W-what the hell? Did you see that?!"

Bruce tried to gently keep the engineer from standing up. "No, I didn't. What happened?"

Tony resigned to setting his back to the fridge and staying put. "It was like...I was flying? And the hum of that motor sounded like the hum of a...something. It was really close to me." He shook his head. "Shoot. I don't remember a damn thing. Although...I'm pretty sure the thing that woke me up was a crash..."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "A crash."

"I'm not kidding," he implored, "I swear I crashed!"

Bruce creased his brow and was beginning to shake his head when he realized. He wasn't in the United States. Not everybody in the world was inclined to an unidentified flying Stark zooming through their airspace. His eyes widened and stared at Tony.

Tony blinked. "What?"

"Christ," Bruce said, standing up and rubbing his face. "Christ almighty, they're after you, aren't they? They're after you! They shot you out of the sky and now they're after you!"

Tony stood up, completely confused. "What are you talking about? Who is?"

Bruce opened his mouth to answer the question but quickly decided actions were better than words as he caught the shadow of a man through his open front door. Without a warning or the slightest hesitation, Bruce hauled Tony and crashed himself out the window and into a very small alley, the hard stone surface jarring their bones and the broken glasses shimmering down like hard rain. Bruce yanked Tony up as the man from the door snapped right and fired twice, just missing their heads by inches.

"What the hell did I do?!" Tony sprinted, panicked behind Bruce as they navigated the intricate system of alleyways in the city.

"I'll tell you what you _didn't_ do," Bruce said as he rounded a corner, "Get a goddamn pass into the country like you were supposed to!"

Tony scrambled to regain lost footing. "I didn't know I had to!"

"No," Bruce said, and he looked back at him from the edge of the heavily trafficked crossway. "You just never get the permission."

"Well," Tony said between breaths, "Maybe this experience will make me rethink how I do things, eh?"

Bruce smirked and turned back to the crowds. "I doubt it." And then, by Bruce's lead, they disappeared into the masses like ghosts in water.

After a little bit of wandering and weaving, Bruce pulled them off into a small clothing store. "We're gonna need to be a bit more inconspicuous." He eyed Tony's obviously well tailored self. "You especially. Come here."

Placing themselves in the roles of normal customers, Bruce exchanged their tops with ones on the racks and snagged some caps on their way out the back.

Bruce took a quick look around. Not a person in sight, and that either meant he was in the clear or in a trap. Tony, oblivious, looked at himself and said with apprehension, "Didn't we just steal this stuff?" He gasped. "Am I a criminal?! Is _that_ what I was?!"

Bruce frantically tried to quiet him down. "You're not, you're not! in fact, y-you're the complete opposite!"

Tony shook his head and backed away. "I'm not going back to my old life if I was a criminal. To hell with you types!"

"I'll prove it to you!" Immediately, Bruce regretted he said that. Tony was clearly suspicious. "Look," Bruce said as he spotted a shady duo of men behind Tony coming down the alley, "if you stay with me, I'll prove it to you that you're not a criminal. Deal?" Tony, still suspicious, eventually agreed. "Great!" Bruce said. "First thing, right now, you have to trust me. Okay?" Bruce kept a sharp eye on the men approaching. Tony glanced over his shoulder.

"What," Tony asked, "You know those guys?"

Bruce shook his head, then focused his attention on the billionaire and hastily whispered, "Listen to me very carefully. I'm about to do something to you that ...might hurt. But whatever you do _don't_ retaliate." Bruce glanced at the men coming ever closer. They were scoping them out now, moving quicker... "You understand me? Don't hit me back."

Tony creased his brow. "Hit you baKUH?!" He nearly sprawled out into the alley as a devilish right hook connected with him square on the chin. He saw stars for a few seconds and tried to shake his head back into focus.

His blurred vision cleared to some badly dressed guy in a hat obviously picking a fight with him. Tony spit onto the pavement and stood up. "To hell with you guy, I don't even know you!"

"Yeah," Bruce said, way too into his character, "That's what you said the last five times. Maybe I hit you too hard. Got a bad memory now?"

Well Tony didn't find that the least bit amusing, as he really didn't remember a damn thing, and this guy knocking his head around probably wasn't helping either. Of course, Bruce didn't have a clue how hard he'd actually socked him, and was therefore completely caught off guard for Tony's uppercut.

He reeled backwards in surprise and was caught up by the wall. Realizing there was a hook coming straight for his nose, Bruce scrambled out of the way and back into the two men who had stopped to view the commotion.

Bruce mentally cursed his luck as he realized he was actually going to have to fight Tony just to keep the guise going. Dodging another wayward punch, his brain shuffled through his surroundings for a way out. It took one more hard sock to the gut to find one.

Giving up entirely on the idea of a fist fight, Bruce launched himself forward and tackled Tony back into the clothing shop, the door slamming into the wall and the both of them sprawling onto the hard tile of the back room.

The men outside were starting to enjoy the skirmish when one of them got a radio in to report back any findings. Bruce stayed on the ground a little longer to play out the fallacy, but he revelled on his getting both of them out of a really bad situation. Little did he realize it was still really bad.

He started to gingerly lift himself off the floor when a hard right smacked his face back into the ground.

Tony huffed by his side and scrambled to his feet, fists up. "Punching me? You like punching? I'll give you a goddamn haymaker that'll knock your kid's teeth out!"

Bruce, eyes closed, groaned and curled into a ball. This was bad, very bad, because evidently Hulk had just about had enough of getting hit and Bruce was damn near ready to snap anyhow, and Tony had no idea what the hell was going on.

Tony wiped his mouth again and lowered his fists. "Had enough?"

Bruce, trying his absolute hardest to keep himself together, exhaled and relaxed. Or tried to relax. It really wasn't working, it really _wasn't_ working- he was going to Hulk out right there in the shop and the guy responsible was right in front of him and god, if Hulk actually killed him Bruce wouldn't be able to _live_ with himself-

Tony took a moment and looked at the scene in front of him and suddenly got a very strange sense of deja vu. Where? What is this? Something, he didn't know what, but something was very wrong. He kneeled down to Bruce's side and laid a hand on him, trying to...comfort? Is that what this was? Some kind of weird panic attack?

Leaning in he spoke softly, "You know it's okay, right? I got you for damages. Kinda pays to be friends with a billionaire." He wasn't even sure why he said that, but it seemed like the right thing for the moment.

Bruce opened his eyes in surprise. That...did his memory return already? Either way, the sudden surprise got Bruce's mind off of the pain and the Hulk and focused him in on keeping Tony not dead, and within the minute he was good enough to get up. He leaned against the wall and eyed the engineer. "Tony...?"

Tony rubbed the side of his arm. "Yeah uh...sorry about the punch. I kinda just remembered why the hell we're out here in the first place."

Bruce exhaled and rested his head back on the wall. "Note to self: No head shots for Tony."

"No shots on you, period," said Tony with a sly smile.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at him. "You remember that, do you?"

Tony folded his arms across his chest. "I remember you're not supposed to get hit by anything. Is that good enough?"

"For now," Bruce said as he exited the shop once again, "It'll do in a pinch at least." He surveyed the alley again. "No guys this time..." he murmured to himself.

Tony spoke up. "Yeah so uh, what the hell is going on again? I mean I know we're getting chased but-"

"Tony," Bruce interrupted, "we're getting chased because you're a multi-billionaire and I'm a science experiment for the military." He glanced back at the engineer's bewildered features. "That a good enough explanation for you?" Then he started off down the opposite way the survey guys left.

Tony shook his head and started after him. "One question?"

Bruce smiled to himself. "Shoot."

"How are we getting out of here alive and not captured?"

Bruce stopped in his tracks. Getting out of here. _Transportation._

Tony grinned and came around to look at him. "Aaaa, and so the mastermind of this operation has been thwarted by an escape plan! You know-"

"Tony," Bruce exclaimed, "where the hell is your _**suit**_?!"

Completely caught off guard by how ridiculous of a question that was, Tony exclaimed right back, "My what?!"

Bruce slapped his hands to his face. They couldn't leave without the suit. No way, no goddamn how. That suit could not be left in the wrong hands. He slammed his hands back onto his thighs and groaned to the heavens. What had he done to deserve this? He just wanted to be left alone... He grit his teeth and pushed onward through the alley.

"Alright Tony," Bruce said as they neared the entrance back to streets, "new plan. We need to get captured."

The sun was beginning to sink as they moved out to the busy crowds and weaved through towards a central square.

"So let me get this straight," Tony said as they reached a park, "We just spent the last hour avoiding the evil guys tracking us and now we actually have to get them to find us so they do...what exactly?!"

"Lead us to your suit," Bruce said, looking around, "Who ever it is will need you to open it and get it working and recode it."

Tony pleaded. "But I don't know anything! How the hell am I supposed to do any of that?!"

"You're not," Bruce said, smiling, "it won't get to that point. But you do have to keep up the guise of knowing, otherwise we'll never see it."

Tony blinked. "What kinda suit is this again?"

"A highly important one." Bruce smirked. "Shoots missiles."

Tony beamed. "Now that's my kind of suit! We talking James Bond kind of suave here?"

Bruce finally spotted one of the military nearby. "More like...RoboCop? Just no pistols." That was a US military outfit! What the hell was going on here? First the guys radio in english and now the US is here too? Bruce was getting the sneaking suspicion that this whole affair had been a set up from the start. And poor Tony was the catalyst. "Damn," he breathed to himself.

Tony rubbed his chin. "Robocop? But...Terminator!"

Bruce distractedly shrugged. The US military. Only meant one thing. They'd shot Tony down to get him, to get the _Hulk_. Bruce kept his breathing even as some fairly rage-inducing thoughts filtered through his brain. Ross of course was at the absolute forefront.

"Hey," Tony said as he stared at him, "you okay? ...You're eyes are uh...jade."

Bruce took a deep inhale and nodded. He was fine, for the moment. He had Hulk under control. What he apparently didn't have control over was his life as long as Ross was still around. Damn him.

Bruce looked at Tony square in the face, his green eyes glistening with the final rays of day. "Listen to me Tony, I'm going to get myself captured. I need you to follow wherever the hell they take me and get your suit. Do you understand? Your suit."

"What?!" Tony scoffed. "You kidding me, I'm not gonna just stand here and watch you get taken by whoever, that's ridiculous! I'm coming with you."

Bruce stared him down and leaned in. "I'm doing this _for_ you. Get your suit and then get me." There wasn't any room for discussion on this. Tony withered under his intimidation.

"Yeah alright...," he said quietly.

Bruce sighed, his eyes flashing back to normal. "If I didn't have to do this, I wouldn't. But-" He closed his eyes and took another breath, then turned the corner and went walking straight up to the soldier who was apparently having a break. Upon seeing Bruce, he scrambled to raise his gun and ordered him to stay back.

Bruce smiled, raised his hands, and stood still as the soldier radioed in his location and the sudden acquisition of a long disappeared fugitive. Then, Bruce was ushered out of the square and towards a side street.

As the sun finally set, Tony became a shadow and he trailed the two men to what he sincerely hoped would actually be his awesome missile suit.

He kept his head down and tried his best to look inconspicuous as he trailed them back through late crowds and busy streets. Darkness was most definitely his friend today, and he slid through carefully, following Bruce's footsteps almost to a T.

Passing by a crowded bar, Bruce and the soldier turned left into an alley. Tony came a few seconds later, but hugged the wall and stopped. He didn't want to just go randomly down an alleyway in the middle of the night, and he certainly didn't want to be seen as a stalker by the soldier, but he had to see where they were going otherwise he'd lose both of them for good.

Electing to get a better look first, Tony walked out to walk past the alley and take a glance. It was very, very dark.

Suddenly, his senses were assailed with bright, brilliant white lights and the roaring of engines and he had to dive to the other side of the alley, lest he get ran over by an entire caravan of army vehicles. They careened out of the alley, ten trucks or more, and squealed out down the street.

Tony, trying to quell his racing heartbeat, stayed motionless on the sidewalk. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He'd followed them, but neither of them had expected a TRUCK. Tony rubbed his face and stood up. He had to do something. Had to, had to-

Wow that shop looks familiar. Tony tilted his head and squinted at the small closed shop across from him. Had he been here before? He scanned the rest of the street and found himself having a strange sense of deja vu. That bar he passed...

 _He stumbled out of the alley, groggy and disoriented. He guessed he looked like a normal daytime drunk since nobody was inclined to help him. Where was he? What city was this? Something...someone. He was looking for someone. How?! He can't remember how he got here!_

Tony shook his head and held it. So he _had_ been here before. "And," he said to himself as he turned around, "I came right outta this alley..." If this was the last thing he remembered and the first thing he recalled... Tony exhaled and started down the darkened alley. He past a few dumpsters, some oddly placed boxes, a few open doors. But the one thing that caught his eye was the rundown building in the back, four stories high, with a window out on the second floor. The rest were boarded up and from what Tony could see, the second one used to be too.

Reaching the back metal door to the place, Tony took a steadying breath. This was it. If his suit wasn't in here, he'd have nothing but 1/16 of a brain and a captured buddy. He reached out to turn the handle-

Decided against it, found this moment way too important, and instead kicked it straight open with a BANG.

Tony blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. A little bit of hot rod red? The majority of the thing was red. He didn't care, and he ran in and _hugged_ it like an old friend.

"Okay," he mumbled to himself excitedly, "how the hell do I make you talk-"

The head tilted down as the suit lit up and came to life. "Make me talk," said a woman's voice, "Tony please. Just ask."

Tony stumbled backwards and sat down, his eyes never leaving the helm's eyeslits. A woman?! "Wha- Who are you?!"

The suit tilted its head at him. "Mr. Stark, I think you should've listened to me when I said go see a doctor about that bump to your head."

Tony blinked rapidly. "Who...is your name Friday by any chance?"

"Sir, how about we leave first, and answer questions on the way?" Then Tony watched in total fascination as the chest, then the lower body, then the legs and arms all opened to an empty inside - one Tony assumed was for him.

He looked it up and down and said, "This thing is not Robocop in the slightest."

"I'd certainly hope not," Friday said, "because you would've had a fit."

Tony stood up, brushed himself off, and tried to saunter into the suit. It felt right, but he did it wrong; or that's what he was gathering as he got himself slightly stuck on the way in. "Alright," he said, after he was situated, "now what?"

The suit clamped around him and the helm came down, filling his vision with blue information and updates. "The left hand thruster has been repaired," Friday informed him.

"The thruster..." Tony's eyes widened. "I _did_ crash!"

"Yes, yes you did. An expert crash, sir. I would recommend a maneuver like that for training," Friday spoke in his ears.

"Wow," Tony smirked, "A sassy AI? Where'd you get that from?"

"My creator," she said matter-of-factly.

Tony tested his ability to move his limbs in the suit. Smooth as silk. "Who is?"

"Honestly, Mr. Stark," Friday pleaded, "I think we need to get you to a hospital."

Tony huffed. "I'm fine thank you. Oh god." He suddenly realized, "That guy! I never even got his name and he's-" He frantically searched himself for a button. "I crashed. How the hell do I fly in this thing?!"

The suit suddenly had him hovering off the ground. "Thrusters are now on and fully functioning," Friday said.

Tony groaned. "If I can't remember how to turn this damn thing on, how am I supposed to fly it?!"

"Mr. Stark, I am an AI as you said, programmed to run this suit of armor," Friday patiently explained. "I mean, it's not like you could order me to fly it _for_ you-"

"The guy," Tony interrupted, "he got taken by the trucks that were outside. We gotta get him back."

"Locating the trucks now," and the screen in front of Tony was lit up by a map and many moving dots on one particular street. "They're heading for the airport."

"Alright," Tony said, setting himself for what he figured would be the ride of his life, "let's get the hell outta here."

Almost immediately after he was pushed into the back of Ross's truck, Hulk was blasting dynamite in Bruce's head. He kept his eyes shut from his surroundings and his head hung low as the constant barrage pushed him to his limit. How long was his willpower going to last against something this fierce? Hulk had never gotten so ferocious so quickly before, although Bruce had to admit the last time he'd been this close to Ross, Hulk was practically in a coma.

Bruce was barely aware of Ross's victory banter, or whatever it was he was trying to say. He did pay closer attention when the soldier next to him, the soldier he'd been 'captured' by, replied, "He just walked up and surrendered, sir."

In which Bruce managed to smile slyly to himself, because if there was one thing he could always be cheered about, it was Ross not knowing all the facts. It was even better when he didn't understand the whole picture. Like right then, as the trucks careened onto a runway, Ross was giving Bruce the strangest look of deep suspicion. Bruce couldn't help but gloat a little. Although Hulk was really pounding away still, Bruce managed to tilt his head up and give Ross the ol' smile that said 'You've just been had'.

"Brawn versus brains, Ross," Bruce said, "Usually the one with the plan always wins."

Ross was two seconds away from punching Hulk right into the equation when a huge explosion was heard and the truck skreed. Everyone flew forward as the truck connected with a hard end.

Bruce scrambled to his feet quick as he could, and flailed for the back. He could hear Ross cursing like some kind of sailor in the front, and Bruce frantically tried to pry open the back.

Ross spotted his fugitive about to escape and yanked out his gun, aiming for the neck and-

Bruce rammed the metals doors wide as the sound of a shot rang in his ears. Stumbling out, he sprinted out towards the flames of what looked like three trucks in front. Where the hell-

A blast came from his rear and he did an about-face as the truck he'd just been in was shot twenty feet in the air by what had to be a bomb or a missile, probably a grenade-

"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! MISSILES!"

Or Tony, Bruce thought as the suit zoomed over his head, it could've been Tony in the suit. Bruce stumbled again.

His vision was dimming now. Ross had got him with a tranquilizer. He had to let Hulk out now, he had to-

Bruce dropped to the asphalt, unconscious.

"Mr. Stark," Friday alerted him to the downed man on the runway. There was suddenly another man, stumbling from the back of a totaled truck nearby, that seemed to be hell bent on getting to the unconscious form out there. Tony suddenly became acutely aware of the bullets ricocheting off his armored self and realized that these guys were here for the end goal: trying to get his friend on some plane somewhere and fly him back to who knew where.

Whatever, Tony thought to himself, I just know I have to get him off the runway and away from these jerks. And suddenly, that mischievous Stark in him got a brilliantly terrible idea that would probably get him killed-

"Friday," Tony said as they made another pass, "Where's the plane they're aiming for?" His hub zoomed in on a readily set army aircraft in the back of all the commotion. He snapped his head back to his downed friend. "Stop that other guy!"

Friday fired from the repulsors and sent Ross dodging out of the way. It was enough time for Tony to get Friday to get his friend from his downed spot on the asphalt and carry out his ridiculous plan.

"Get us on that plane," Tony exclaimed, and Friday shot them both off down the runway, over fire and bewildered soldiers, and finally to the back of the army plane. The back was open already, so Tony had Friday lift Bruce to a hammock of safety harnesses up top then said, "Friday, we're gonna need a clear runway for this."

"Yes, and you'll also need a clear cockpit," she replied, then, allowing Tony to exit the suit, clomped in to said cockpit and pulled out the men inside. She dragged them completely out of the plane, then turned back to Tony's surprised features to say, "I suggest you close the door now."

Tony closed his mouth and scanned the area for something familiar.

"It's in the cockpit," Friday said, her weapons aimed harmlessly at the soldiers sitting outside. Tony scrambled in and found what his brain was telling him was a helpful array of switches: he flipped and pushed buttons in a random order.

First, he heard the engines start up. Then, it was the yells of the distraught soldiers behind the plane. At length, he couldn't hear anything out there, and suddenly Friday came sailing by the front with the two soldiers in hand. She deposited them on the grass nearby and then set up her missiles to blow the entirety of the vehicles away.

Tony took a deep breath and frantically scanned the dash for a way to get the plane off the ground. "Ah hell...," he stopped thinking and started piloting, somehow maneuvering his hands to set up everything as it should be. Next thing he knew, the plane was picking up speed and the vehicles were smoldering piles of metal. Friday swang by the cockpit and took the ascent with the plane as Tony's ridiculous plan got them an escape outta there.

Problem: Tony didn't have a damn clue where they were.

Second problem: The one who knew was out cold in the back. Great.

"Sir," came Friday's voice, "I would suggest you allow me to come inside. I might be able to help with a destination plan."

Tony, after checking all around him for the suit, resigned to just not knowing what the hell was going on and opened up the back. A half a minute later, he heard clanks on the metal behind and shut the back again. When he'd finished, and somehow set the plane to fly on its own, he turned to find the suit retrieving Bruce from the hammock. Tony scooted out of the way as Friday deposited Bruce in the co-pilot's seat.

"Now then, sir," she said as the suit turned around, "this might help with your decision process." She then removed the helm of the suit and deposited it in Tony's hands. The rest of the suit dismantled itself into a tidy pile out of the way.

"Right...," Tony said, then he put the helm on and returned to the pilot's chair. As Friday laid out a plan back to New York, Tony kept an eye on the unconscious man beside him. He just couldn't understand it. What was so special about this guy that Tony listened to him? That Tony went along with his trying to leave the city, and listened when he told Tony to go get his suit? Tony glanced back out at the dark night sky before him. It could be he's just gullible.

"We seem to be quite a ways from home...," Friday brought up a map of the world. Tony had to resist a gasp. They were in Oceania!

"What the hell was this guy doing in Oceania?!" Tony looked back at him, like he would answer. "Better yet, what was _I_ doing in Oceania?!"

"You were attempting to relocate a lost friend. The same friend which sits in the co-pilot seat now," Friday informed him. "Congratulations on the successful mission. I would expect to hear a call from General Ross soon."

"General who?" Suddenly, the face of a well seasoned hard-faced man appeared glaring in front of him and a ringing was heard in Tony's ears. "Is this a...phone call?"

"Would you like me to allow it through?"

Tony shrugged. "Yeah sure." Friday did something and the ringing stopped. Tony didn't hear anything on the other end though. "Hello?"

"'Hello? HELLO?! YOU JUST WRECKED A MILITARY FACILITY, AND RUINED TENS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IN EQUIPMENT AND HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IN VEHICLES AND YOU SAY 'HELLO'?!"

Tony grimaced. "Yes...?"

"Tony Stark, when I see you back here, and I suggest you avoid me for the time being, I will not hesitate to put you _and_ your temper-trodden trustee into custody and a goddamn box! You hear me?!"

Tony had his eyes shut. "Loud and way too clear, sir."

It was silent on the other end. "...you just call me sir, Stark?"

Tony cracked open one eye. "Um...yes? Sir? Am I not supposed to?"

He heard a chuckle on the other end. "All my years working with Stark's, you had to be the one to get some sense knocked into you. Maybe when you get back here I won't rip your head completely off. No one died after all. Still. Consider yourself warned."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Fury out."

The call ended, and Tony exhaled. Holy hell, he thought, who the hell was that guy? He grimaced suddenly, and struggled to pull the helm off. His head, oh his head was _killing_ him! Damn guy spoke way to loudly- He put his palms on his temple and massaged. Figures a guy named Fury would sound so damn furious all the time.

 _'Stark! I've just about had it with you, pulling your stunts and scaring the public! At this rate, I'm going to be forced to agree with Ross. Stop screwing around so the project can keep operating! We don't need another Manhattan happening without a team to stop it. You hear me, god damn it?!'_

 _'Yeah, yeah. Teamwork. My favorite.'_

 _'Tony, come on.'_ Smiling brown eyes. _'If we didn't have that, where would I be right now?''_

Tony snapped back to reality with that question echoing in his mind. Where? Where was that? When was that? And who was the guy with the brown eyes?! Tony sighed and lowered his head to the steering. At least his skull wasn't about ready to split anymore. But who was the guy with the brown eyes? The name...started with a B...

"Tony?"

Tony's head snapped up. He looked around wildly. The plane! The plane was gone and now he was sitting at a marble countertop with a glass of...scotch? Looked like scotch. He turned to the voice.

"I gotta ask you something, Tony."

It was the guy that let him fix his refrigerator. And dragged him halfway through an entire city. "Yeah, what," Tony asked.

"Do you...really believe in the Hulk? I mean-" The guy stopped and looked down. "No, that's not what I-"

"Yes," Tony cut him off, "I believe in him like I believe in you. Heroes, you two. Saving the world and all that. I absolutely believe it."

The other guy looked back up at him and his eyes were _brown_ and suddenly Tony realized why he trusted the guy so much in the first place. Those brown eyes were so confused, and searching and suspicious, but when they smiled... "It's not always the big ones that deserve all the credit you know. Manhattan was given a chance by you coming back. You, with just that one decision, probably saved the planet." The eyes grew more apprehensive, but he continued. "No, no. I'm wrong. You _did_ save the planet. You're the guy that wields the so-called beast. And you brought him when the world needed him and you saved it."

The eyes looked down again, and the man stayed silent.

"Besides that, you got an awesome new lab partner, a million dollar apartment in my tower, five superheroic friends and an entire administration dedicated to keeping idiots like Ross off your tail. Congratulations!"

And those eyes came back up and they smiled, only just, but Tony was the happiest to see the guy happy. Just who...who was this guy? It was on the tip of his tongue...

"Tony..."

He was being shaken back to reality. "Alright...alright," he said as he groggily pushed the arms away from him. "What?" Tony looked up and there they were again.

Those brown eyes.

"Tony," those eyes said, "where- how did I get here? What is this?"

Tony stood up from the seat like he was in a trance. He never looked away from those brown eyes. They were connected to him; somehow they made a huge impact on his life. Or something. God, he sounded like some kind of a sap. "I have no idea where the hell we are..."

Bruce grabbed Tony by the shoulders. "HEY! Focus! Back to reality! What happened?!"

Tony snapped out of the weird daze he was in and took a breath. "The guy. The guy with the gun coming after you, he shot you with something so you passed out. And then I grabbed you and the plane and left."

Bruce released Tony from his grip and left out a breath of air as he closed his eyes. "Okay...," he said quietly, then he suddenly opened his eyes again and looked around wildly. He went out the pilot area and walked through the plane to the very back before stopping and putting his hands on his head and exclaiming, "YOU STOLE HIS PLANE?!"

Tony blinked a couple times as he tried to figure out if he was dreaming still or not. "I uh...yeah? Guess I did." He walked out to where Bruce was and observed his surroundings. "Where's my suit?!"

"Never too far behind." The suit stepped out from behind a tall container and turned to face them both. "I saw no reason to keep the suit fully on, so I lessened its functions to standby. After you dropped the helm that is. In effect, its been sleeping for as long as you have."

Bruce couldn't help but smile a little at Tony's AI. Friday had even more Stark qualities than Jarvis. "Hey Tony-" He stopped short when he saw the way Tony was looking at him.

Tony was caught in a spell again. The eyes. Damn it, the smiling brown eyes! That wasn't a dream, or if it was, it's now a reality. Why were they affecting him so much? It felt like an accomplishment.

Like an achievement.

If he got those eyes to smile, he'd just done something right. Something really right.

Tony took a step backwards and shook his head. "Who in the hell _are_ you?!"

Bruce's eyes went wide with wonder. How long had he been out?! "Friday," he turned to the suit, "how long have I been knocked out? You know what, tell me how long Tony's been asleep too."

Friday didn't skip a beat. "Four hours, 33 minutes; Four hours, 2 minutes respectively." Bruce sighed. Friday continued, "I might also point out that General Ross did indeed call you, sir." Bruce's head snapped to the suit, then snapped to Tony.

Tony inhaled and shrugged. "Well, I wasn't awake to answer it so...boo hoo? I did get a call from a guy named Fury by the way. Does he uh-" Judging by the look of apprehension on Bruce's face, Tony guessed that wasn't a good sign. "If it makes it any better I don't think he knows I've got you...? I got a question."

Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Shoot."

"What's a shield?" Tony asked.

Bruce gave him an odd look. "What like a medieval shield? With knights?"

"What?" Tony shook his head. "No, no I mean...shield. What's shield."

"Well," Bruce said as he sat on a nearby box, "you talked to the director of the whole organization. You said Fury, right? He's the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Or I mean, he _was_... It's a little complicated. And it'll get more complicated if you set this plane to New York. Did you?"

Tony did a 'who me?' and said, "Well Friday said it was a good idea. And I'm pretty sure my house is there- but that guy after you. Those soldiers were US weren't they? This plane...US Airforce, right? Taking you back..."

Bruce sighed and put his head in his hands. He'd gone off the grid to _stay_ off the grid. Going back to New York was like a one-way ticket to a fresh hell. Half the world wanted him dead, the other half wanted him in prison! He couldn't. He just could not.

But then there was Tony, standing in front of him, with no memory at all of his life so far, and Bruce just couldn't bring himself to leave Tony so vulnerable. People could take advantage of a billionaire with his genius and his ability, and his memory loss. Bruce groaned, but slammed his hands down on his thighs with a finality that would not be swayed.

Bruce stood up and adjusted his glasses. This wasn't always all about him and his problems. "We're heading to Manhattan," he said, "and we're getting your damn memory back, with or without Ross breathing down my neck." He turned to the suit and spoke to Friday. "I'm counting this as an emergency. Avengers Assemble."

By the time the plane had crossed into Eastern Time, the members that could attend-Steve, Natasha, and Clint-were waiting at the new facility with Fury presiding over the group. The director had thought Stark sounded weird in that phone call, but now all he and the others could do was wait.

Unbeknowest to them and unfortunately as well for Bruce and Tony, there was about to be a hell of a hold up in the form of a perseverant General Ross. The first inclination of a plan gone wrong was Ross's voice echoing out the communications of the plane.

"Land in Pennsylvania or I'll shoot you right out of the sky, Stark." When Bruce and Tony exchanged glances but didn't answer, Friday broke the silence.

"Ross has airforce jets inbound. Four about ten miles away."

Bruce inhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "God damn it Ross..."

"Not sure if this is a good time," Tony said, "but who the hell is Ross?"

Bruce flung his hand in the air. "He's the general currently trying to barbeque this plane and take me as a prisoner. Yeah. That about sums it up."

As Bruce weighed his options, Tony made a decision. To not under any circumstances land in Pennsylvania. Before Bruce knew it, Tony was opening the back of the plane, and he, Friday, and the suit flew right out and away. Bruce hustled to shut the back again, but what was the real point? He didn't know how to fly a plane!

Tony grinned as he circled the outside of the plane and came around to the front. "Alright Friday," he said, "Let's get the New York Jets a couple of fantastic new mascots." The suit sped up as Friday controlled the speed of the plane behind.

"We'll be in New York before the jets reach us, sir."

"Great!" Tony grinned. "This feels like a routine thing for me. Do I do this kind of stuff often?"

"Much too often, some would say," Friday replied. Then they picked up more speed and made a beeline for Manhattan with the plane right behind.

If Bruce had known Tony was trying to outrun the jets, he probably would have agreed. But if he'd known the resulting chase would slam him in the middle of Manhattan?

If either Tony or Bruce had known what crazy plan Ross had signed off on Bruce at least would have said no. Tony would've probably talked him back into the chase again though. Not to mention they would have to get to Avengers Tower anyway.

So it was inevitable.

As Friday said, they zoomed into the New York City skyline just as the jets got into missile range. Friday informed Tony of this development.

What not even Friday knew was that Ross had really and truly ordered them to shoot the plane _down._ So when Friday told Tony the plane was locked to get blown to smithereens it was too late to maneuver out of the way.

Bruce went sailing forward as the plane was wracked by two missiles from the back. He covered his head as he sprawled onto the floor.

 _That guy is still in there!_ Tony suddenly took full control of the suit and booked it backwards as the plane's back became engulfed in smoke and flame. The skyscrapers were a good 6000 feet below still, but the plane was dropping fast, and it needed to move.

But Tony was met with a momentary dilemma. How to get the back of this plane actually open. "Friday!?"

"The mechanisms appear to be jammed by the blast."

Tony gritted his teeth. There was no time to lose. "Get this thing away from the city!"

"Attempting to turn, sir, but the plane is damaged."

"Then I'll just have to _push_!" Tony swang over to the left wing and pushed up, tilting the plane to the right and towards the sea, or at least the Hudson. Anywhere but over the city was fine with him, but they were rapidly losing altitude and that guy was _still inside_.

Tony released the wing and Friday balanced out the plane. "How do I get in?!" The skyscraper's tops were only a few hundred feet below now.

Without an answer, Friday took control of the suit and lazered a hole inside. Bruce was curled up in the small entrance way to the pilot area when Tony finally grabbed him up in his metal arms.

In an event that Tony would describe as 'really freaking cool' later, Friday fully stopped the suit in its tracks, and the plane slid past it, Tony, and Bruce as they fit right through the hole that'd been lazered.

Tony looked up at the bright sun and blue sky, then back down at the now sinking remains of the army plane. "Woah..."

Bruce stirred and groaned. "Oh god-"

"Hey!" Tony grinned. "Man, you should have _seen_ the action I just went through. That was intense!"

Bruce shut his eyes and curled in a little more. "Tony," he bit out, "...you gotta...put me down...," Bruce suddenly glared at him, his eyes bright green. " _NOW_!"

Tony nearly dropped him in the river right then. Holy hell, was he scary when he was mad. Okay, Tony, where's a good place... He spotted a shipyard full of boxes down the way. Perfect!

Thinking about it as he flew over, Tony didn't really know _why_ he had to drop him off there. He knew his brain was saying, 'less people, smaller structures, near water, easier clean up' but he didn't understand why.

As soon as he was over hard ground, Tony gently deposited Bruce and backed away. Which again, as he thought about it, didn't make any sense either. What the hell was his autopilot trying to tell him? He supposed he was about to find out...

Bruce had gotten blasted at, bumped, bruised, and battered on that quick trip down to the Hudson River, and Hulk was about near done with this entire turn of events and was not about to take another second of being harassed by Ross. Or Tony getting harassed by Ross. Or _anybody_ getting harassed by him, really. Hulk all around just was not happy, period.

Bruce knew the other guy was mad about all these things because, if he was honest, _Bruce_ was positively furious about all these things. Ross had gone completely off the deep end now. He wanted Hulk. And he was willing to crack open a couple skyscrapers to do it.

No, no, he had to calm himself down. This was not about him, even though Ross is a total- No. You are supposed to be getting Tony back to Manhattan. Back to the team, so he can remember and go back to being a normal genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. You can't lose your cool, Banner. Not _now_.

It was a hell of a struggle, and Bruce's amount of willpower was about strained to its limits, and from the outside looking in Tony for the most part saw green, green, _everywhere_ , but he pulled through and managed to calm himself down before Hulk really decided to do a number on General Ross.

Tony observed the normal-colored, heavily breathing man in front of him with the greatest amount of interest. Who the hell was this guy with the brown eyes, and why the hell does he turn green, and why the hell is that a bad thing?! And who the hell is that guy over there?!

A man, with his arm in a sling, stepped out from an entire line of army trucks in the dark green uniform that Tony faintly remembered to be army grade. And very official. And very familiar...

"What the hell do you want?" Tony surprised himself, his voice ringing out clear, strong and defiant even with the helm fully on. Something about that army guy seemed off. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw somebody get up near him, and he backed right back up to his side. Tony didn't move his head, but he asked quietly, "You alright?"

"Fine," Bruce said breathlessly, "thanks for asking. But I'm telling you right now, I won't be fine in a few minutes."

"Listen, Stark," said an authoritative voice, equally as clear as Tony's had been, "I only want him. You know I've only ever wanted him. So, make the right decision and we'll all go home."

"Oh yeah, absolutely!" Tony nearly laughed. "I could, and honestly would probably consider it! But it seems the jokes on you, because it wouldn't help me anyway." Tony put a hand on his chest. "I don't _know_ where home is. But," Tony hitched a thumb at Bruce, "he does. So I'm gonna keep him for a guide, okay?"

Bruce was a little startled. That sounded very much like a genuine Stark statement. "Tony..."

Tony looked at him. And in that moment, looking at those worried brown eyes, something clicked in Tony's brain. It was like instinct to protect this guy. Like it was his duty as a man, as a friend, as a teammate, as... Tony spoke clearly, loudly, with a righteous fervor that would make Steve proud. "Even if I never remember who the hell I am, I'll never let a damn thing happen to you." And that was the honest, genuine truth.

Turning away from Bruce's shocked features, Tony took two steps in front of him and primed and aimed all of his arsenal at the convoy. "You want him you son-of-a-bitch?"

Ross didn't signal his troops to make a move, but he did shake his head. "You would rather fight for a monster of a friend than protect the people? People like you should be labelled as terrorists, Stark."

Tony didn't move. "I'm gonna terrorize the living hell out of you if you're not gone in a few seconds."

"Why, that's all the time I'll need," Ross pulled out his phone and tapped something on it.

"Ross," Bruce warned, "If you did what I think you just did-" He cut himself off as a roar cut straight across the water, into his ears, and directly to a certain green nemesis of the one who made that terrific sound. Bruce fell to his knees and let out a strangled yelp as Hulk went absolutely ballistic.

Tony disarmed himself as he immediately turned to a struggling tinted green man. Holy hell, he wasn't kidding, this was about to be really, really bad.

"What the hell did you do?!" Tony yelled out to no one in particular.

Now, what both Tony and Bruce didn't know, was that everyone under Ross's orders were suddenly looking at their leader with major distrust. He, in turn, had to explain that "That was _not_ my order. The plan was the Hulkbuster unit. You all know this, have been told this, were at the briefing. Blonsky is under some other order, or most likely his own."

"Thank you, Friday," Tony quietly said as the concentration of Ross's voice was reverted back to normal in his ears. So, this roar thing was not that general's idea. It was good information to have, but it wasn't going to help the ongoing situation in front of him.

Bruce was still struggling to keep Hulk back, but it was clear he was going to lose this battle. The Abomination was a very sore spot for Hulk, considering how big of a fight they'd had the last time they met. Anything about him set him off, really, but the roar. The _roar-_

Tony heard another terrific sound clash with his ears. And Bruce's eyes went wide open, green as emeralds. There was no holding him back now. With his last ounce of will, Bruce yelled at Tony, "MOVE!"

Tony staggered backwards as the secret to this mysterious man was finally revealed- the massive green giant of a man beat his chest and roared himself, and Friday nearly had to mute the surroundings lest Tony's hearing be no more.

Tony stood in awe in the giant's shadow, and watched him turn and roar at the city as he put cracks in the concrete with his massive fists. He couldn't believe a guy like...could turn out to harbor something like...! "Explains why I'm not supposed to punch him..."

Tony caught his tongue as big _green_ eyes were suddenly trained on him. But they didn't look...evil? Is that a word he could use here? And he didn't look like a monster either. His eyes were human, and curious, and suddenly content with his apparent recognition of either the suit or the voice. Either way, Tony was awestruck by the huge build of muscles, and the immense amount of probable power, and the fact that he wasn't getting smashed into the ground right now-

The moment was only that, a moment, because a roar of challenge was issued from the city and Hulk had a job to do. He took a running leap and cleared the river, disappearing into the masses of buildings.

Well, Tony was still so taken by the sudden events that had happened that he was still standing there, dumbly watching the big green guy go off to fight another possibly big green guy when Friday snapped him back to reality by asking, "Would you like me to alert the others or will you let them find out via media?"

Tony didn't even skip a beat. "News." And then he was zooming over the river because it suddenly occured to him that he needed to stay with the fight in case it got out of hand. "Where are they, Friday?" She quickly navigated him to a busy street, full of people trying to escape the full collateral that was a giant gamma fist fight.

"Holy-" Tony spotted the opponent. Big, tan, ugly abomination that was having apparently no problem going toe-to-toe with who Tony had just recently decided was the most powerful thing on the planet. People were really getting caught in this conflict. There had to be an outlet to a less populated area-

Tony scanned the area and immediately found the grandest park of the city about three blocks in front of him. So if he could corral these guys in there, maybe he could avoid a huge amount of damage. Alright. Now how the hell was he going to do that?!

Well he knew hovering up top doing nothing was _not_ going to get him anywhere. Help the green one...somehow.

Tony got closer, and noticed the slight advantage the tan one had: he was bigger. The leverage wasn't going to help the green one much...unless an outside force maybe interfered? Tony didn't even hesitate. He swung up behind the tan one, his back now facing the park, grabbed around its neck and tried to thrust upward.

It was enough to disrupt whatever pattern he had gotten into, because the green one started pummeling on him like crazy. Just as Tony lost his grip, the green one ended with a huge uppercut that sent the tan one flying backwards a near block. Tony swung out of the way as the green one continued on its crusade.

As the tan giant started getting up, big green swang hard with a forceful punch to his chest, and sent him back another half a block, but he was still on his feet. The next thing the green one did, had Tony wishing he had a camera.

With a roar, the smaller green giant slammed into the stomach of the bigger tan one and lifted him from the street, sprinting forward straight into the park and on through a tree.

Tony mentally fist-pumped. The majority of the public was saved! Now Hulk just had to beat this tan guy and-

Wait a minute. Hulk? Tony creased his brow as he watched the two size each other up again. "Hulk..." he muttered to himself. Hulk...and Iron Man. This sounded familiar. It sounded...right. The suit, Iron Man.

 _He_ was Iron Man.

Tony watched the two giants interlock again in a battle of strength below, but kept thinking back. Hulk and Iron Man, they were a duo. Or...

Tony suddenly stopped thinking and started acting. Zooming down to the left of Hulk, he shot a repulsor blast into the Abomination's face that once again disrupted his fighting, and Hulk combo'd with a hard left. At that same moment, Tony flipped to the other side of Hulk and shot again, and Hulk swang a quick right.

With the Abomination shielding his face, Tony shot a missile right into his stomach, doubling the giant over and allowing Hulk to connect his green knee with the tan forehead. The tan giant stumbled backwards as his head flew backwards with the blow, and Tony zoomed in and slammed his suit right through his shoulder, sending the Abomination flat on his back. Hulk leaped on him and punched him, again and again and _again_ until he seemed to be satisfied with his no longer fighting back.

Completely disoriented and sorely beaten, the Abomination gave no inclination of his wanting to get back up. This fight was finished.

Tony hovered at Hulk's head height and put his hands on his hips. "Well, that was over way too quickly. Maybe I shouldn't have knocked him over for you." He turned his head to Hulk.

Hulk smirked. And those green eyes looking back at Tony suddenly gave him the explanation as to why Tony was so protective. One and the same, Tony thought. Opposites, complete opposites, but still one and the same, still personalities, still people. Hulk and...damn. Tony sighed, floated to the grass and looked back out at the street they'd come barreling down. He still couldn't remember that guy's name.

"Want...Bruce now?"

Tony wildly snapped back around to the deep bass of the green giant. He wasn't sure what surprised him the most: the fact that he could talk, or the name he'd just used. "W-what did you say?!"

Hulk gave him an odd look. "Bruce. Hulk is here. Tony want Bruce now?"

Tony was trying to sift through his jumbled cloud of alphabet soup thoughts, trying to spell that name in his host of memories because it sounded _so_ familiar...

Hulk sighed and decided himself that he would get Bruce. Tony wasn't acting much like himself.

Still shifting through his conglomerate of thoughts, Tony barely noticed Hulk shrinking back to normal size, and he really didn't see him turn back to a normal color. It wasn't until Tony was about to ask him the name _again_ that he realized there was a man in ripped shorts where a green behemoth used to be.

"H-hey...," Tony tentatively said, "you awake? Hello?"

Bruce stirred and opened his eyes to the sunlight. He groaned and sat up, then noticed Tony sitting there and remembered Hulk's last thoughts. Giving Tony a sideways look he asked, "What the hell is wrong with you, Tony?"

"What's your name?!" Tony blurted.

Bruce grabbed the ruined elastic of his pants and stood up, eyeing Tony through the suit's eye slits. "You scared Hulk half to death because you don't remember my name?!"

Forgetting his pressing question for a moment, Tony replied with an incredulous, "You can _scare_ him?!"

Bruce pinched his nose. "Anthony Edward Stark..."

Tony, for some reason, felt a pang of indignancy zing through him. "Excuse me?!"

Bruce waved him off. "Just...my name is Br-"

The brown eyes went wide as saucers, and then they closed and fell to the earth without another look.

Tony watched them close and fall, and a part of him fell with them, because when he looked up, and he saw that general again, he remembered his name- _Ross_ -and he remembered how angry that made a certain somebody, and the relationship he had with that certain somebody and that just about did it for Tony Stark.

A blast from somewhere sent him sailing over and in front of Bruce, closer to Ross and his first convoy of men. He knew Bruce was probably getting taken behind him. But he stood up slowly and he never took his eyes off Ross.

"You say he's a monster...," Tony spoke quietly as he glared at the general, "then I might as well be labelled the same." Tony raised up his left arm and armed a missile. " _LABEL ME A TERRORIST!"_

There was suddenly a bright arrangement of red, white and blue before him, a big colored metal circle in his missle's line of sight. He wanted to shoot, he wanted to _shoot_ -

"Tony," said another authoritative voice, "stand down." The shield was lowered to reveal a young and well built man with short blonde hair in the equivalent of an American flag uniform. Tony was struck by the voice, but he didn't lower his arm.

"Are you protecting him," Tony asked, "because if you are, I won't hesitate to shoot you too." But he had just hesitated. He couldn't shoot this guy.

"Tony, listen to me." Now that voice just sounded compelling. Commanding. "Put the missile away so we don't cause a major conflict here. I know you've got bad blood with Ross because he's got bad blood with Banner but Tony, please, this will only give us another battle to fight. Wasn't the whole point of the last battle to be the last one?"

Tony wavered. Banner? "Sounds familiar...," he mumbled.

"Just put the missile away." The guy in the outfit put his shield fully to his side. "Please. Stark."

Tony spotted Ross, looking straight as an arrow, possibly anxious? Maybe he was just waiting for Tony to put the missile down so he could blast him again. Tony gritted his teeth. "I can't, and I sure as hell will not. He shot me in the back with a missile of his own. An eye for an eye."

"And the whole world goes blind, Tony." The flag started walking toward him. "You are a defender of the people. An advocate of peace. You specifically are also a man who's given his life to prevent new battles and new conflicts and new evils. You," the man said, as he lined up his chest with the sight of the missile, pushing himself on the fist of Tony's aimed arm, "are an Avenger. And this," he nodded his head at the armed missile, "is not what a man of your quality does. Let alone an Avenger." A new set of righteously burning eyes bore into Tony's soul, as the man said with finality, "Put it away."

"Holy hell..." Tony could not help but breathe, and he lowered his arm and put the missile away as ordered. "Who...what...?!"

Steve nodded his thanks, then turned to deal with Ross. "Now general..."

Tony watched the patriotic man march over to Ross. If he was about to use the same trick on the general as he had on Tony, there was a pretty good chance Ross might actually give up. That's what Tony hoped anyway.

His mind wandered back to Banner, and he turned around to look back as he tried to figure out why this name was sticking with him. He was totally surprised to see a woman with red hair all in black, laying the unconscious man's head on her lap as she crossed her legs in the grass. There was another blonde guy there, wearing a weird vest of sorts, with a bow and arrow and quiver. They didn't _look_ like Ross's goons, and they didn't look like they were trying to _take_ the guy...

The archer called over to him. "Hey! Stark! What the hell man?"

Tony took a deep breath and walked over to them both. "What the hell what..." _Legolas_. Tony snickered. Legolas? No flowing locks unfortunately.

The archer folded his arms across his chest. "I get a call in the middle of the night for an 'Avengers Assemble', show up at the tower thinking we're gonna _plan_ this out, come to find we're battling Ross in the middle of Central Park and-"

"Clint," spoke a strict voice from below, "we're still going to the tower for this. And do you really think he had any idea he was going to have Ross _and_ the Abomination coming after him? The assemblance was way before-"

Clint stopped her and nodded. "I know, Nat, I know. I'm just giving him a hard time for getting me out of my house. Again. After we were supposed to be _done_." He smirked down at her. "An Avenger's work is never done, am I right?"

Her red hair swished as she turned back down to look at the man in her lap. "Took the words right out of my mouth...," she mumbled. She stroked his hair and sighed. "He's not going to be happy to see me when he wakes up."

Tony didn't have any real input with these people he didn't know he knew, or knew he didn't know, so he elected to just ask an obvious question. "So, what hit him?"

Legolas looked at him and explained, "A small dart of sedative, made to knock him out very quickly, but not for very long. I wouldn't be surprised if he wakes up before we get back to the tower. Or earlier. I mean it was a dart for a normal guy with a normal cell structure and all that, so in all honesty he could wake up-"

Bruce slowly opened his eyes and shielded them from the sun. "Ow..."

The archer shrugged. "Yeah. Now works."

Bruce turned his head and saw the red metal boots. "Oh...Tony, hey. What-" And then he saw Clint, standing nearby, and then there was Natasha, looking down at him. Bruce froze.

Natasha's smile played on her lips and she stroked his hair again. "Welcome back."

"U-um..." Bruce didn't move though. The strokes were really soothing. "Natasha...," he sighed as he closed his eyes again, "we really gotta stop meeting like this."

The archer next to Tony snickered. "Good luck with that one, doc."

"Alright Avengers," said the spangly guy coming from Tony's right, "we're not cleared, but we're leaving anyway. Where's the Quinjet?"

Clint smirked. "If you'd walked any farther left, you'd have found that out yourself Cap."

"Clint," the Cap said, "why is it invisible?"

"Well, to be honest," Clint motioned his hand at the supposed air in front of him. "It broke. It's stuck being invisible."

It was in that moment that Tony realized what was really going on here. This was a group of people, sitting in Central Park, having a normal chat while a great tan giant slept yonder and a small group of the army stood ready with guns. This, Tony realized, was normal. And only normal because they _all_ found it normal. Because they were all so similarly different that it all just made sense. They were connected, like a _family_. Tony smiled behind his metal mask.

"Well," he replied to Clint, "I'll take a look at it when we get back to the tower," Tony said, looking down at Bruce.

Bruce seemed to take that as a cue, and moving away from Natasha he stood up and looked at Tony through the eye slits. "You wanted to know my name." The rest of the Avengers looked at each other in confusion.

"It's Bruce. Bruce Banner."

Tony thought about it, really thought about it, and he knew that name was something so very important to him, and he knew this should've been a groundbreaking discovery of something-!

Tony sighed. Bruce blinked, and then his face dropped off a cliff. Oh god, Tony thought, I'm going to cry. Bruce looked so downcast in that moment that Tony honestly felt like tearing up. He looked away. Anywhere but Bruce's face.

For Bruce, this was just final blow. Up until that point he really wasn't sure if Tony was pulling his leg or not. But now... Bruce felt terrible for thinking he'd been lying.

"Alright you two...," Cap said after a few seconds, "I think it's time we headed back to the tower. We'll discuss this all when we get there."

Tony was the only one not in the Quinjet, so he avoided the obviously awkward ride home with Bruce in the back. Tony sniffed. Who the hell is Bruce Banner?!

Bruce has his head in his hands as Natasha tried to calm him down. "Bruce, it's okay. In our line of work its hard to know-"

"But he's my best friend!" Bruce's head had snapped up and he'd yelled that. He'd felt the meaning behind those words and he'd said them with truth. He stared at Natasha's surprised features for a second before he looked back at his hands. Softly, he said, "I mean how could I think that? How could I honestly think he would sink that low...?"

"Because you would have done it."

Bruce seemed to flinch, but then he looked at Natasha. In her eyes was an understanding. Bruce nodded, slowly. "Yeah. ...I would have... So what does that make me? A hypocrite?"

"A man with trouble trusting himself, more like it," Natasha remarked. She tilted her head at him and blinked, a slow, calculated blink.

Bruce looked down. He would never admit it. Pride is a powerful thing.

By the time they all got back to the tower, Fury had been informed of the entire ordeal between Tony, Bruce, Ross _and_ Blonsky, so that when Tony clanked in a little earlier than everyone else, the director didn't bite off his head immediately.

"Stark," Fury nodded, then turned towards the lounge they had down below. "If you would. It seems there's a lot we need to catch up on."

Tony had been trying to bite back a sob for the last three minutes, the look of Bruce's sad, sad brown eyes hitting him _so_ _ **hard**_ he couldn't take it. Why?! He was almost certain a man of Bruce's personality had been solemn, unhappy, downright melancholy many times, but...

...Tony had watched his face dive off a cliff for _him_. And that just...hurt. He was supposed to be keeping the guy happy, with a good life, and a good friend-

Tony quickly walked past the carefully calculating Fury towards the inner works of the penthouse, tears streaming down his face, unseen by all but his AI. Fury simply looked after the obviously afflicted Stark and shook his head. At that moment, the rest of the team arrived through the elevator.

Steve took a look around, striding up to the bar nearby. "Where's Stark?"

Fury spotted Bruce, his head in his hands at the back of the pack. "He ran off. I'm assuming it had something to do with him."

Bruce looked up in surprise, stared at Fury, and almost immediately took two steps back towards the still open elevator doors.

"Wait," Natasha grabbed his arm. "He's the only one here, the only one that knows."

Bruce looked at Natasha's anxious expression, then looked back at Fury with trepidation. He'd left to stay away from the military, to stay away from S.H.I.E.L.D., and so far he'd now seen both of them before he'd even had a chance to sit _down_. He took a breath through his nose and didn't move, poised to run right back in that elevator.

"Dr. Banner," he heard Steve plead, "you have to _trust_ us. Nobody in this room is here to...to..."

"Stick you in a cell," Clint said, "or lock you up in an asylum, or experiment on you, or-"

"We're here," Fury gruffly interrupted the archer, "or at least _I'm_ here, because somebody in their infinite amount of wisdom decided to call together the world's superheroes in the middle of the god damn night under the guise that there was some kind of predicament that required that same _entire_ team to be present. Now I know you've got a temper," Fury growled, "but it's gonna be nothing compared to mine if you decide that there was _**no**_ reason at all for me to wake up at the crack of Satan's ass this morning!"

Well now Bruce was just dumbstruck. Never had he, and judging by the rest of the team's reaction, or _anybody_ heard the director speak so frankly. The surprise of it all was enough to let his guard down for a moment, and let it all suddenly sink in that _he_ , no one else but Bruce Banner, had called the _entire_ team of the Avengers - the _**Avengers**_ \- back out of hiding... This was something he never did. He'd never done. No wonder everybody was so on edge about this whole thing, he was the one that had called it. Out of the blue! He'd been out there in the wilderness for almost 4 months!

Bruce rubbed his face with both hands. "My god...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I-" He looked up and sighed. "I'm just sorry." Then he walked forward and past everyone before he plopped down on a couch and sighed again in the lounge. A few seconds later, Natasha sat down next to him, lightly setting her hand on his thigh with a reassuring look. Steve calmly walked to a seat on the opposite side as Fury remained standing nearby.

"You want to start from the beginning?" Clint asked as he vaulted on to the couch.

Bruce nodded. "Um...well Hulk swam to Oceania. And I just...started over. And it was going great until...Tony...showed up in my shack, upgrading my fridge's motor at my worktable." He explained how they were attacked, how they ran away and how they separated after Bruce's capture. But he couldn't really go farther than that, since most of it was either him knocked out or Hulk in the driving seat. "I remember scrambling out of that army truck and then passing out on the runway. That's it."

"I picked you up and put you in the plane," Tony said, now standing above them all, his helm on his hip and himself out of his suit. "Then we both passed out on it. And Fury yelled the hell out of my ears."

"Well that doesn't sound like much of a problem," Clint huffed.

"It wouldn't be," Tony said, "if I'd known from the start why I'd gone to Oceania."

"To get Bruce," Steve said, with an air of obviousness.

"Yes but, I didn't know that. I forgot."

Bruce sighed. "He forgot more than that, he forgot everything."

Fury squinted at him. "What do you mean _everything_."

"I mean if you asked him who Pepper Potts was, he'd probably give himself a hernia trying to figure out who she is," Bruce remarked.

Tony blinked. "Pepper?"

"Your girlfriend," Clint said, still disbelieving.

"Well that's ridiculous," Tony said, "I can't imagine how somebody could deal with a guy as careless as me. I don't even remember my full name anymore!"

"Yes you do," Bruce said, "I said it earlier."

"Oh," Tony said with disappointment, "I was hoping my middle name would be cooler than 'Edward'."

"Stark," Fury said, turning to him, "you want to tell us why you ran off earlier like that?"

Tony's face turned a shade of pink the rest of them never thought they'd see. "U-uh..." and then those brown eyes were looking at him again, and they were sad still, sad and worried for _him_ \- "Bruce, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I don't remember you. I'm sorry I got you into this mess, I'm sorry you're back here in the middle of all this," he paused, "I'm sorry I'm making you so sad right now..."

Bruce blinked, surprised by that last tidbit, and stood up from the couch, leaving everybody else- who were used to a Stark that rarely expressed his sentiments -sitting in stunned silence, as he walked up to Tony. The engineer hadn't stopped looking at him, and as Bruce got near he could see his eyes were a little red.

He wasn't really sure what made him do it. It could have been the events of the last 12 hours that stressed him out, or the fact that he had the _balls_ to assemble the Avengers by **himself** , or that Tony was giving him the most apologetic look he'd ever seen him give to _anyone_ , or that Bruce himself was feeling so terrible for even _thinking_ Tony could be lying to him about all of this-

"I'm sorry," Bruce said quietly, his arms rapped around Tony's warm torso. "I'm _so_ sorry."

Tony grabbed him right back and sniffed. "What the hell are saying sorry to me for?!" He choked as he teared up again into Bruce's shoulder. "I'm the one with the missing memory! I'm the one making the trouble around here!"

Bruce unlatched himself and held Tony's shoulders, the engineer out in front of him. "Because," he said, tearing up at the sight of Tony looking so _damn_ _ **vulnerable**_ , "I'm the reason you lost your memory in the first place." He let go of Tony and shook his head, then buried it into his hands. "Oh god! You came out looking for me because I ran _away_!"

"Ran _away_?!" Tony choked out a laugh and wiped his eyes. "What the hell? _You_ ran away? You singlehandedly got me back _home_ from Oceania! What could a man of your abilities _possibly_ have to run from."

Bruce looked up at him, his eyes wet, and stared at the smiling Tony in front of him. "Of course," Bruce said looking away for a moment, "of course. You forgot that. I uh...I'm an internationally wanted man. Everybody on the planet with some sort of power wants me incarcerated." Bruce laughed tiredly, more of a slight chuckle of disbelief than anything else. "I hurt a lot of people."

Tony's face suddenly dropped to something Bruce liked to call 'misunderstood determination'. "Well, you didn't hurt me."

"Tony," Bruce said, his eyes sadder than ever, "because you don't remember, you don't remember the _danger_ of even being near me. You don't even understand how lethal of man I am."

"God, Bruce...," Tony said, retracting slightly, "I've got at least an inclination. You're not that bad."

"But I _am_ that bad," Bruce emphasized, "which is why I was out there in the first place."

A conflict passed through Tony's mind, and fight or flight that showed. The warning signs were all there, the guy was openly _warning_ him of danger-! With a shake of the head, Tony practically sprang forward and put a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Like hell," he said. "You think I'm gonna get scared that easily? If I'm still here after all these years as _your_ friend, there's no way im hell I'm giving up that easily." He smirked. "Nice try."

Bruce was absolutely horrified, much to Tony's enjoyment. "I'm not going _anywhere_!" Then he happily sauntered down to the lounge and took up a relaxing position next to Natasha, leaving a space for Bruce in between them.

Bruce put his head in his hands again and just held it there for a second, then slowly made his way back to the couch and sat down in his seat. "I hate you, Tony."

"That's the spirit," the engineer laughed beside him.

"How do you not understand how _dangerous_ this is?!" Bruce was going to give it one more shot. "I myself am the most dangerous person alive. The government wants me dead or in prison, the military wants my body for experimentation, and no doubt more crazy lunatics are going to rear their heads around here because the Hulk is 'back in town'. How can you _possibly_ sit there looking at me like that when all of this," he flung his hands out above his head to encompass him, the city, the world in its entirety, "is bound to _**happen**_?!"

"Because," Tony said, with sincerity, with purpose, with the thought of those brown eyes maybe, just maybe shining with something other than tears for once, "I know one thing for sure. I know that you're my friend, probably my best one, and I know for _damn_ sure that I'm the kind of guy that protects his friends. From **everything**. So when you ask me how I don't understand I say this: I do understand. I don't remember, but I understand." He shook his head and his teeth grit a bit as he continued. "Just from the looks you give I can tell you've had the hardest life a man can have. You rarely smile, you're rarely given a reason to. And you don't deserve it. Son of a bitch, you don't deserve a damn bad thing to happen to you anymore but it _does._ So you know what? I understand. I understand what the hell I've been doing, even though I don't remember. A long, long time ago, a guy named Anthony Edward Stark made you his priority. I might never find out why but I'm not going back on that self-made promise. So if you're not used to it already well tough luck, big guy, because now you're _really_ stuck with me." He smiled. "I wasn't doing a good enough job before. I mean look where you ended up?! Damn."

After a very long silence, Bruce broke their staring contest with a blink and a "Holy shit."

As for the rest of the team, sitting around the room, they'd all straightened in their seats, eyes wide, even Fury had come closer just to make sure he'd been hearing everything right.

"Well that's just unfair," Clint finally remarked after another silence.

"What?" Bruce gave him a dazed glance. "Why?"

"Even if he doesn't regain his memories, Stark is as open as a book now," Clint said, still shocked. "He wears his heart on his sleeve."

"That's a bit dangerous," Steve said, looking at Fury.

"Yes," the director said, "yes it is. The old Stark was very private, very obnoxious, and very careful."

"If by careful you mean accidently creating a megalomaniacal robot that wanted to kill all living things on the planet," Natasha said.

Tony looked wildly around the room. "I did _what_?!"

"It's okay," Bruce couldn't help but chuckle, "I helped."

Tony brightened. "You laughed!"

"Is he seriously just going to gloss over the fact that he nearly killed the world," Clint mumbled loudly from his seat.

"He wouldn't be a Stark if he didn't," Fury remarked, stealing a smirking glance at Clint.

"Alright Stark," Steve called to get attention, "do you at least remember how to fly your suit?"

Tony laughed. "Nope!"

"Bozhe moi," Natasha said quietly.

"Woah," Tony said suddenly, a light seeming to go on in his head somewhere, "I just had the _greatest_ idea. Can Hulk help me relearn how to fly?"

Bruce just stared at him.

"You know like, I take it off auto pilot. So if I crash he can catch me instead."

Bruce _continued_ to stare at him.

"Oh come on. If it's a training exercise the world can't get _that_ mad. Can they?" Tony looked at the rest of them. "Can they?!"

"Extremely," Clint said.

"Incredibly," Steve added.

"Undeniably," Natasha included.

Fury ended the argument with a: "You do realize they want his head on a stake in Europe, right Stark?"

Tony seemed to ignore all of them. "If I punched you, would he come out?"

Bruce's eyes went wide open. "Why the hell would you want to _punch_ me?! He'd just be mad at you! And you just gave me this huge speech about how you're trying to keep my life from going sour!"

Tony sighed. "Man, you guys are the debbiest of downers. I didn't learn how to fly by following rules you know. I had to teach _myself_ how to fly that suit."

"Nobody told you to build a multi-million dollar suit of armor," Clint said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Give me a break, Legolas."

"Well," Bruce said blandly, "at least your Stark charm hasn't left you."

The moment Bruce said that, Tony's entire demeanor changed. He looked worried, anxious as he said, "I was just kidding, I swear. It's bad enough you're back in New York. But you're gonna get kind of cooped up here all day if you're trying to lay low..."

Bruce was taken aback. "Ye-yeah well I'm sure it'll be fine, I mean I've been here before and this was home base for us for a long time so-"

"Well then maybe we should leave," Tony said suddenly. "If this is where we always were, people will know exactly where you'll be. We should relocate."

"I...surprisingly...second that notion," Steve said, suspicious.

"Well," Fury said, "there's always one good way to stay up, out and away."

"Fury," Clint said, "when the hell are you gonna run out of those damn helicarriers?"

"You'd be surprised how many they have hanging around," Natasha remarked.

"We're the same clearance! How could you know more than me?!"

"I asked."

Clint grumbled to himself as he gave up on the subject.

"Well great," Tony said, "let's go there. It'll be harder for people to get you in the air."

Bruce was still trying to take in the whirlwind of events as they all filed in the Quinjet with their belongings only an hour later. As the door folded up and closed them in, Tony turned to Bruce with a questioning look.

"What's a 'helicarrier'?"

An audible groan was heard from the front seat.

-The End-

Bonus:

"That's okay," Clint said bluntly with a shrug, "we're all a mess. We couldn't have saved the world if we weren't a total mess of screwballs."

"Speak for yourself, Barton," Fury warned.

"I wasn't aware you were on the team," Clint jabbed with a playful tone.

"I hope you're aware I can kick you off of it," Fury sent back, then turned to the giant long table in the room.


End file.
